


Coulrophobia

by SophiaHawkins



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 11:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaHawkins/pseuds/SophiaHawkins
Summary: Sylvie Brett has always had a fear of clowns, everyone at 51 knows this, but it's affecting her ability to do her job, so she calls on a friend to help her conquer her fear once and for all.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Coulrophobia

Sylvie Brett was aware of a soft humming sound, it took her a minute to realize it was her. Then she realized her eyes were closed, where was she? What happened? As she slowly forced her eyes open she realized she had a pounding headache, and her stomach matched. Right away she recognized the sterile environment of a hospital exam room, where she was currently laying on a bed. What was going on? She groaned softly as she tried to sit up.

The door slid open and Matt Casey stepped in.

"Sylvie? April called Severide and told him you were here, are you okay?"

"Uh..." she squeezed her eyes shut to block out the blinding light before trying to get up again, "Yeah, yeah, I think so."

"The doctor said you passed out shortly after dropping off your patient," he said, "do you remember what happened?"

She tried to think. Did she remember?

A whining groan slipped past her lips as it started to come back to her. She slid back down on the bed and pulled the sheet up over her, "Yeah, I remember...and I wish I didn't."

"What happened?" Casey asked.

She pulled the sheet up over her head and wanted to block it all out, but she couldn't, embarrassing as it was. After a few seconds, she pushed the sheet down and started to sit up.

"I..." she sighed, "you know that I absolutely _don't_ do clowns, right?"

Casey nodded, everybody at 51 knew that after a call on Halloween a few years back.

"I got the paperwork filled out and we were getting ready to leave, when the elevator opened and..." she breathed hard and fast like she was going to hyperventilate, "All, of these, _clowns_ , came out...and I just...I just..." she forced herself to take a deeper breath and explained, "they were coming down from the pediatric ward..." she groaned again and hit her head back against the pillow, "This is so embarrassing."

Casey was his usual self of not offering much support other than his actual presence, since he wasn't sure what to say and didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing.

"There are times I know when to expect this," Sylvie explained, "Halloween...if the circus comes to town, that's fair warning...but stuff like this...or we get called to a kids' birthday party...I never know when it's going to come up, and...I, just can't, _deal_ with it."

Casey finally spoke and told her, "The doctor's releasing you but he wants you to go straight home, you have a minor concussion from hitting your head on the floor."

The blonde woman shook her head, and immediately regretted it, as she tried to push through, and insisted as she got to her feet, "No, I'm fine, I'm ready to go back to work, I can do this..."

"Boden won't let you, and you know it."

Sylvie sighed and looked down at her shoes. After a minute she picked her head up and looked at Casey and said, "I always knew I was different...but it never really occurred to me before that something's wrong with me."

"What do you mean?" Matt asked.

"Well it must be...those kids in the hospital aren't scared of clowns, but I am, what does that say about me?" she asked.

"You're not exactly alone you know," Casey said. "A _lot_ of people don't do clowns."

"There's a difference in 'not doing them', and..." the very thought of it had her breathing rapidly again and about to hyperventilate.

"Come on," Matt told her, "we'll get you discharged and I'll drive you back home."

* * *

Sylvie pressed her back against the wall and let out a long, ear splitting scream that would've fit perfectly in any horror movie. Matt Casey stood a couple feet away from her, his face twisted in a grimace of agony as he about went deaf hearing it.

When Sylvie finally stopped screaming and instead started gasping for air, Casey took the opportunity to say calmly, despite how frazzled his own nerves currently felt, "Okay...I'd say that's an improvement...you're still in the room, and you didn't throw up."

Sylvie looked at the clown doll with red hair, a red nose, a big painted on grin and eyes, dressed in a ringmaster's outfit, standing on her couch propped against the pillows and felt her chest heaving. "I don't think I can do this, I can't, I can't..."

She'd asked Casey to try and help her find some way to finally work past this phobia of hers, because she knew he wouldn't bust her balls about it like the others at 51 would. He wasn't sure what good he'd be but he agreed to try and help. They'd come to the same conclusion it would be best to start with something small and inanimate that couldn't be perceived as much of a threat, but apparently even this wasn't working.

"Alright, alright," Casey said calmly, "I'll get rid of it." He grabbed the doll by one fabric hand, put it in his toolbox and snapped it shut. "See? It's gone."

Sylvie heaved in a long, hard breath and slowly exhaled it back out as she tried to calm down.

"I don't think it's working, Casey, I don't think I can get past this," she said hopelessly as she sat down on the couch.

"Can I ask you a question?" Matt asked. "Granted, I know Stephen King and John Wayne Gacy haven't helped matters any, but exactly when did you start being afraid of clowns?"

Sylvie shook her head, "I don't remember...I'm tempted to say all of my life but that's not really true, I know because I used to have this clown night light in my bedroom when I was like 2 or 3...and it didn't bother me...when I was about 6, one of the girls in my neighborhood was all excited because her parents were going to bring her to Chicago to see 'The Bozo Show' live...she was hoping they'd pick her to play the Grand Prize game, do you remember that?"

Casey nodded, faintly, "Yeah, you win a prize for every ping pong ball you toss in a bucket."

"She was thrilled...every kid on the block wanted to be on that show...when it used to come on TV, I'd run off and hide under my bed. I didn't know why, but that was when I first knew that I...was scared of clowns. And it just got worse, in the second grade I was at a friend's birthday party and after the cake, her parents took us all outside in the back yard and this clown came out to perform...my dad had to come get me because I wouldn't stop screaming. That's when everyone at school found out...and that made my life hell clear up to graduation."

Casey made a sympathetic sound in his throat and told her, "Sorry to hear that, I know, school's hell, the people you think are your 'friends'...when they find your weakness, they jump on it."

"I couldn't figure it out, you know?" Sylvie asked. "I'd look at all of them and wonder why they couldn't see what I saw...why weren't any of them freaking out too? I mean we were all looking at the same guy in this freaky makeup who just looked...like something straight out of hell...why weren't any of them afraid? And then over the years I realized it wasn't all of them, it was me...that something was wrong with _me_."

"I wouldn't say that," Matt responded.

Sylvie felt a need to repeat, "Those kids in the hospital aren't scared of clowns...so why am I?"

"90% of those kids would be scared to death of corn snakes, you're not," Casey pointed out.

She didn't look convinced. "Snakes are easier to figure out why everyone's afraid of them, they bite, they squeeze, they're poisonous, and nobody trusts anything that can move that fast with no legs."

Casey chuckled.

"So...what is it about clowns?" Sylvie asked. "For crying out loud, they're not even real, so why are they so scary?"

Matt shrugged, and offered his own two cents, "I've never been particularly fond of them either. When I was 8, I was invited to this birthday party, some kid in my class, we never hung out or anything, but his mom made him invite the whole class... _they_ hired a clown to entertain the kids...and he was so smug and so annoying...I just wanted to punch his lights out the whole time I was there."

Sylvie laughed. "Did you?"

"Well," Casey said knowingly, "not exactly but I did throw a piece of cake at him, just missed him. I tried to convince my parents it was an accident...my dad didn't buy it."

"Oh," Sylvie replied in understanding.

"Trust me, you're not alone, a lot of people don't like clowns," Casey said.

"Yeah, but this can't keep happening on the job," Sylvie replied. "Maybe I should try hypnosis."

Casey blinked, "You think that'd work?"

"I don't know," she said, "but at this rate I'd be willing to try almost anything."


	2. Chapter 2

A couple weeks later Sylvie heard someone knocking at her door, and upon opening it she saw Casey standing on the other side.

"Do you have anything planned for Saturday afternoon?" he asked.

"Uh, no," she shook her head, "why?"

"Promise to keep an open mind?"

"What is it, Matt?"

He held something out to her, she tilted her head down to read it, and she hit him on the arm, "Tickets to the circus?"

"They were selling them at the gas station," Casey said as though that was an explanation.

"I'm terrified of clowns and you want to take me to the _circus_?" Sylvie hit him again, "What's the matter with you?"

"Ow! Cut it out," Casey took a step back from her reach and said, "You said you'd be willing to try anything, didn't you?"

"Not this, I'm not going to the circus, be around a hundred people and act like an idiot in front of them? What were you thinking?!" Sylvie demanded to know.

Very calmly, Casey asked her, "Do you trust me, Brett? Have you _ever_ known me to deliberately embarrass someone?"

Sylvie sighed quietly as the reality hit her and she admitted, "No...I guess not."

"Then will you trust me?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I can't, Matt, I can't deal with those white painted faces and those red ball noses and the green and purple hair, and those...demented laughs, I can't."

"I can promise you that won't happen," Casey said.

She raised one eyebrow, "How?"

"I know this circus, it comes through Chicago every couple years, trust me, you'll have a great time."

She looked at him for a minute and asked in a small voice, "You're sure?"

He nodded.

"And if I wind up running out of there screaming, I can slap you in the face?" she asked.

He laughed. "Sure, it's a deal."

"Okay," she said reluctantly, "I'll go...but I don't know how you think this is going to help."

"Like I said, trust me."

* * *

It was warm and sunny that Saturday as they arrived at the armory building the circus was setting up in.

"When you said circus," Sylvie said as she shut the passenger door of his pickup, "I thought you meant tent."

"Sometimes they do, sometimes they use the armory," Casey answered.

There was a small trailer out front for tickets and concessions. They got two Cokes, popcorn and at Sylvie's insistence, a bag of blue cotton candy. Around the side of the trailer the ringmaster was talking with another man as everything was being set up, the ringmaster, a tall guy in his 40s who looked like he could be intimidating under the right circumstances, turned and his face lit up at the sight of the lieutenant, "Matt Casey, long time no see."

"Good to see you, Dimitri," Casey shook the man's hand, "how's it been?"

"Can't complain, we're getting a bigger turnout than expected so we're scrambling to round up some more chairs, seating might be a while."

"That's fine."

"And who's this lovely young lady?" the ringmaster turned to Sylvie.

"This is Sylvie Brett, a paramedic from 51."

"Aaaah," the man tipped his head back in realization, "Your first time at one of our shows?"

"Uh, yeah," she nodded.

"Well I hope you have a great time, we'll be starting soon."

"Uh, thanks," Sylvie said, "thanks a lot."

As they headed up to the building, a short round man who looked like Lou Costello, dressed in black pants and a blue striped shirt and red suspenders, propped the door open and kicked the doorstop in place. He looked at the two people approaching and in a thick accent he roared, "Hey, Matt Casey!" Despite the accent, he even _sounded_ like Lou Costello.

Casey was carrying the concessions and didn't offer to shake hands with the man as he said, "Hey Marco, what's new?"

"Wait'll you catch our act, you'll see," was the man's answer.

Sylvie looked at him as they passed through the doorway and commented to Casey, "You're certainly popular with these people, aren't you?"

"It's a long story," Casey said. He looked at her and asked, "You alright so far?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just as long as I don't see any..." she looked around every which way to make sure they weren't about to bump into a clown.

They found where the chairs were being set up and saw the place was already pretty packed, three more rows of chairs were being added to the front around the center ring and that's where they sat down after pushing past 50 men, women, and antsy screaming children with balloons and light up toys being sold by vendors around the ring.

They sat down and Casey handed Sylvie her drink and the cotton candy and he saw her looking around the room.

"You okay?"

She looked towards the ceiling and said, "There's not really enough room in here for them to do any really dangerous acts, is there?"

"Depends how you define dangerous," Casey said, "but no...the stuff you see on TV with the motorcycle cage of death or that big pendulum wheel that spins from the ceiling to the floor and about throws the guy off...no, that's more when they actually have a tent."

"So, what exactly could we expect here?" Sylvie asked.

"That'd be telling," he replied teasingly.

"So..." Sylvie felt her stomach knotting up as she asked, "Are...are the clowns going to be on first, or last, or..."

Her question was broken up as a mother and two kids pushed past them, the kids both digging into their popcorn and dropping some behind them.

"So, what _is_ your story with these people?" Sylvie asked.

"I told you, it's a long story."

"Well it doesn't look like they're starting for a while," she said. "What is it?"

Casey ran the edge of his tongue over the underside of his top lip and he explained, "Back when I'd first transferred to 51, we responded to a call at this live theatre house, the smoke alarms had been activated."

"This circus was performing in a theatre?" Sylvie asked.

"Yeah, pretty limited space there too, but more equipped to deal with their acts," he said. "So we go in, they haven't evacuated yet because they're checking all their equipment and effects to make sure none of it's malfunctioned...and in the end it turned out to be a false alarm, but before we realized that, while we're trying to get everybody out, Dimitri's wife, Rosalita, collapses on the center stage. She's in labor."

Sylvie's eyes bulged and her eyebrows trailed halfway up her forehead, "She was working in the circus at 9 months pregnant?"

"Well it's not like she was an acrobat," Casey said, "she had on this oversized dress so you couldn't really tell...during intermission they'd paint kids' faces for $5 and she was one of the makeup artists, turns out she didn't even know she was pregnant. Two months before, her stomach just kind of...plopped out, and she and Dimitri were scared to death she had stomach cancer, her dad had had it, he died of it years earlier, and they couldn't afford the treatments so they decided to just, go on as usual as long as they could. So her going into labor was a _very_ emotional roller coaster, relief that she didn't have cancer and wasn't going to die, and shock because they didn't know she was pregnant, and they had a daughter while they were on the road and weren't prepared whatsoever. Anyway...we had to get dispatch to send out an ambulance, and while we had to wait on them, I helped her through the labor, with the juggler and the clown assisting me."

Sylvie was laughing, "That'd terrify me if I was in labor."

"Anyway, they were only in town for three days," Casey said, "and to show his gratitude, Dimitri gave us free passes for the last show...I get about half the guys from 51 to come with me to check it out...and at the end of the show, Rosalita comes out on the stage with their daughter, that especially got one hell of an applause."

Sylvie laughed. "No wonder they remember you."

"Yeah, I try to catch them whenever they come to town, like to see how they're doing."

"So where's Rosalita?" Sylvie asked.

Casey pointed and she looked and saw a dark haired woman in a pink T-shirt, jean shorts, Crocs, and a smock, selling inflatables and light-up toys to the kids who hadn't been seated yet.

"So where's their daughter?" Sylvie asked.

"You'll see," Casey answered.

A few minutes later the ringmaster entered the room and took the center ring and commanded everybody's attention as he introduced the circus and its performers. The first act out were three acrobats, a man, and two young teenagers, who came out on trick bicycles that every time they went around the ring, they stopped and dismantled them one piece at a time, so the bicycles, which were originally the size of a mini bike to begin with, were even smaller than a toddler's tricycle. The man took his apart piece by piece and reconnected them, so he was eventually riding a bike that had no seat, no handlebars, and no brakes, and ultimately transformed it into a unicycle and rode it around the ring flawlessly.

The next act was a girl who looked about 13, in a short sparkly outfit who did the splits in a giant ring that was pulled up towards the ceiling, and then spun around as she twirled two chains with flaming balls attached to the ends.

"That's their daughter," Casey told her.

Sylvie's eyes were big as she looked up and watched the young girl, "Whoa."

The next act was a pack of dogs of all different breeds who came out in a conga line, then jumped over hurdles and through hoops, all but a short little Dachshund who ran _under_ the hurdles, getting a big laugh from everyone. A young woman in a sparkly leotard came out and did a back bend and had one of the toy poodles jump up on her midriff as she arched herself further and further back until her hands were touching the floor. Then she stood straight up again, got a jump rope, and had a bigger poodle jump rope with her in perfect synchronization.

Sylvie was having such a great time that she forgot about the fact no circus is complete without clowns. Two tanned, well built men in their 20s came out and performed a rolla bolla act, one set up cylinders and boards on a tabletop and the other man balanced on them, one level at a time, always with flawless precision. Three levels up they decided to make it more interesting by having him balance on a skateboard on time of the rolla-bolla boards, he did, and even flipped himself over and did a handstand on it teetering from side to side. The audience let out an impressed series of whoops and howls amid their applause. Then the skateboard was taken away, and instead the man balancing for dear life was giving a jump rope to use while the boards teetered on the cylinders.

"No," Sylvie moaned as she started to curl into herself, dreading what would happen if this went wrong.

She was on the edge of her seat but the man managed to jump ever so slightly in time with the rope that he maintained his equilibrium on the moving boards, much to the audience's delight. Then they built it up higher, another level, and another, and another, the man was finally standing on seven levels of boards and cylinders, and he was up so high his head nearly touched the ceiling. Sylvie shrank back in her seat dreading what could happen as he made them all wobble from side to side and kept his balance the entire time. Then, the man on the ground removed one cylinder and one board from the mix, causing it all to drop down one level, the man on top still standing. Another set was removed, then another, and another, until finally the whole thing had been taken apart, and the audience roared with applause.

Sylvie loudly exhaled in relief when that one was over.

That act had just cleared out, when lively music started playing, and Marco, the short man from the front door entered the ring, carrying a huge antique prop camera entered the ring, and with few words that could hardly be deciphered over his accent anyway, got the audience to clap in time with the music. Then he went around the edge of the ring, looking at the people in the front row. And one, by one, he had a few stand up and strike a pose and he took their pictures with the camera. He made his way over to Sylvie and Casey, and Sylvie was sure he would pass them by. But instead he looked at her, pointed exaggeratedly, and mimed for her to pose with one arm bent behind her head and her face turned to the side. She did, and a bright flash about blinded her. Then Marco stopped and pointed at Casey, and gestured for him to stand up. Everybody was looking, and clapping in encouragement, and Casey slowly stood up. Marco turned to the side and flexed a bodybuilder's pose, Casey parroted the pose, and Marco took his picture too. Then he set his camera down, and took several large photographs out, and went around the ring showing them to the people he'd photographed. The people around them all laughed, but it wasn't until he came back over to the other side of the ring that the first responders knew why.

Marco came back towards Sylvie and pointed at her and held up a large photograph of Farrah Fawcett. Everybody, including Sylvie laughed. Then he went over towards Casey, and held up a large photograph of Arnold Schwarzenegger in a speedo. The entire audience erupted in laughter and Casey fell back in his seat and about toppled over in embarrassment. Sylvie was laughing at the top of her lungs and reached over and slapped him on the arm.

Marco went and put his camera away, and came back with a base drum strapped to him he was beating with a mallet, a horn mounted on top of the drum he was blowing, and a set of cymbals strapped to his legs he clanged together when he turned his legs inward.

From a set of curtains set up in the back of the ring, Dimitri pulled them open enough for his scowling face to shine through looking like the heavy in an old silent film. He pulled the curtains open and ominously entered the ring and came up behind Marco, who when he realized he had company, promptly quit playing the music.

"What are you doing?" Dimitri asked.

"Nothing," Marco insisted.

"You don't play music, you clean up," Dimitri said and ripped the drum straps off his shoulders and tossed it away with a loud BANG as it hit the ground. Marco turned to the audience with a pout. Dimitri picked up a push broom and gave it to Marco and told him, "You sweep, no music."

"No music!" Marco wailed to the audience, earning a round of 'boo's from the kids.

Dimitri stepped out of the ring and Marco started pushing the broom, he looked to make sure Dimitri was gone, and went over to a large prop radio and turned it on, club music started blasting as he dropped the broom and started showing off his moves, earning a loud roar of laughter from everybody. And just like clockwork, Dimitri came stalking back behind Marco, who turned around, saw him, his eyes widened and he promptly shut off the radio, collected the broom and started sweeping as fast as he could.

"No music!" Dimitri told him.

"No music," Marco nodded.

"I hear music again, you're gonna be sorry."

"No music," Marco addressed the audience, and raise a finger to his lips. Once Dimitri was gone, he looked at the radio again and rocked on the balls of his feet, questioning if he dared turn it on again. He dared. He reached over and turned it on again and this time "Stars and Stripes Forever" was playing loud enough to drown everything else out. It was loud enough Marco started jumping in place in a frenzy and tried to turn the radio off, but it was stuck on. In a panic, Marco picked it up and threw it on the floor, it smashed into several pieces, but the music kept playing. Frantically, Marco stomped on all the pieces, but the music wouldn't stop. He looked around at the audience, and then made a face like a light bulb went off. He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone, the music was his ring tone. The audience laughed even harder. He answered the call and cheerfully said, "Hello?"

Dimitri's voice boomed over the phone, "NO MUSIC! GET BACK TO WORK!"

Marco dropped his phone and shook so hard his knees knocked, everybody laughed. The curtains pulled back and Dimitri entered the ring again, he marched up to Marco and asked him, "Have you been playing music?"

Marco shook his head nervously. Dimitri looked out to the audience and asked, "Was he playing music?"

Sylvie pursed her lips together in a hard effort not to laugh and shook her head from side to side all the while the little children in the audience, bless their blunt honesty, all nodded and chorused, "Yes!"

"No?" Dimitri asked. "Are you sure about that?"

"YES!" the kids repeated louder. Dimitri looked to Marco and was just about to say something, when they both heard music playing, and looked around to see where it was coming from. One of the dogs from the earlier acts came running into the ring and had a radio tied to his collar. Everybody fell back in their seats laughing. The curtains drew back again and Rosalita came out behind the two men, and patiently waited with her arms folded to her chest and tapping her foot. When both men turned and saw her standing behind them, she bellowed in an even louder voice, " _NO MUSIC! GET BACK TO WORK!"_

Both men yelled and they and the dog all jumped out of the ring and ran off, with the audience laughing even louder.

* * *

"Aww, is that it?" Sylvie asked as everybody got up to leave. "It's over already?"

"Mm-hm," Casey replied as they got up.

Sylvie picked up her empty Coke can and her bag of cotton candy that she'd completely forgotten about during the show, and told him, "I had a great time."

"I was hoping you would," Casey said.

"But I don't get it," Sylvie said, "Where're the clowns?"

"You already met him at the door," Casey told her.

"What?"

"Marco, he's the clown," Casey said.

Sylvie shook her head, "What?"

"It's a small circus, they've got two animal trainers, six dogs, five acrobats, one juggler, and one clown," Casey explained.

Sylvie shook her head again, "No, that can't be right."

Casey shrugged.

"Where's his outfit and his makeup?" Sylvie asked.

Casey shook his head, "Doesn't use any, I guess he's what you'd call a plainclothes clown."

Sylvie slowly let this sink in and things started to make sense, "That's why you wanted me to come, because you knew that."

He nodded, "I figured a clown would probably be less intimidating if he looked like everyone else," Casey explained.

Sylvie chewed her bottom lip as she realized, "I never thought about that before."


End file.
